


Like Shadows In A Fading Light

by IfWallsCouldMuke



Series: Muke as FUCK [15]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (that's about it), Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfWallsCouldMuke/pseuds/IfWallsCouldMuke
Summary: Luke is a Slayer, born to kill demons like Michael.





	

Michael grins as he flaps his wings and loses altitude to swoop down low and find his next target. It’s a human girl, desperate for attention. He feigns a sigh and folds his wings against his back before approaching the girl.

 

“Hello, you look a little bit lost here,” Michael flashes his most charming smile at her.

“I’m rather new in this part of the town,” she replies. “Are you familiar?”

“No…” Michael unfolds his wings, which garners a terrified shriek from his new victim. “But your blood is something I’d bathe in.”

 

-

 

Michael went for the classic throat-cutting with the girl’s murder. His talons are currently being washed in the bar for the supernaturals.

 

“You shouldn’t be here,” a new voice sounds. “Even with the truce, we can kill you outside.”

 

The newcomer has a dark brownish blond hair with strikingly blue eyes. He’s couple of inches taller than Michael, which is a rare feature since he’s quite tall himself. There’s a katana strapped to his back, which is cute.

 

The Blondie is a Slayer.

 

Michael is a demon (half-demon, but that’s a lesser known fact), son of some unholy creature who decided to begat him and leave him to his mother. As a demon, he gets hunted by the Slayers, who are half-angels by birth.

 

The Blondie also lets out a surprised gasp when he takes a closer look at Michael.

 

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” Michael smirks at the Slayer. “Would you like a drink?”

“I’d much rather kill you,” he grits out.

“Ah-ah, truce in this bar, remember?” Michael smirks wider. “What’s your name, cutie?”

“Your death,” the Blondie hisses.

“Death is such an inviting offer if you’re offering yours,” Michael is getting tired of this chitchat. “Tell me, what is your name?”

“Luke…”

“Now was that so hard, Luke?” Michael chagrins. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to get out of here and get shitfaced.”

“No you’re not!” Luke sounds pissed. “I’m killing you!”

“You talk to much,” Michael mutters as he takes the katana from him and flies out of the washroom window.

“HEY!”

 

Michael waits outside the bar, mid-air, as he swings the katana a bit. It’s well-balanced for someone Luke’s height, and it’s a light grip to it.

 

“Give me back my katana!” Luke seethes.

“If I don’t? You’re going to kill me with your bare hands?” Michael laughs bitterly. “You think I haven’t met Slayers who have told me otherwise?”

 

Luke pouts.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to die from the adorableness?” Michael mocks the Slayer. “This is a pretty blade you’ve got, love…”

“Don’t call me ‘love’, you bastard,” Luke grits out again. “I really will kill you.”

 

Michael swoops in and kisses the Slayer. Of course, he has no intention of actually seducing the kid. He doesn’t want to fuck a random Slayer just to boast how he lived to tell.

 

A slap to his cheek answers him.

 

“You bastard!” Luke shrieks.

“You’re welcome,” Michael rolls his eyes, drops the katana, and teleports to his house.

 

Michael lives alone, a thing he hates quite a lot since he’s been looking for his mate for last five hundred years. He hates being alone, and he hasn’t the luck of finding his mate yet.

 

 _That blondie though…_ Michael muses to himself as he grabs a bottle of beer. _He seemed different._

 

-

 

Michael soars through the skies until his wings are too tired to beat the air. He just needed a distraction from all the weird feelings he’s got about that blond Slayer. Weird jitteriness that he can’t escape from.

 

“It’s you again,” a voice that’s becoming familiar already resonates in the loud background-noised bar. “Didn’t I warn you?”

“Then you hesitated, _mon ange_ ,” Michael snickers. “This is a place of truce, you cannot kill me here.”

“I know that.”

“So stop trying, darling,” Michael pinches Luke’s cheeks between his fingers in a rude, condescending way.

“I can’t believe the Forces even…” Luke breaks off, looking alarmed that the even said those words himself.

“Even what?” Michael arches his pierced brow.

“It’s nothing of your concern,” Luke growls at him.

“You’re the one who brought it up!” Michael growls back, flashing his fangs.

“Fangs and talons, those are all you’ve got to scare me,” Luke says rather mysteriously. Or perhaps _ominous_ is a better choice of words.

 

Michael turns around and leaves Luke standing with gritted teeth.

 

-

 

Michael is an oddball.

 

Even though it’s one of the most primal instincts to have sex with other creatures to find a mate, Michael never felt the urge to.

 

Especially after what happened with Celine.

 

Even after nearly six-hundred years, he’s traumatised by that, and isn’t in the mood to repeat that.

 

Releasing a sigh, Michael unfurls his wings and takes off from his balcony. He just needs a distraction.

 

Again.

 

-

 

Michael feels weak right now.

 

There’s a bunch of werewolves he pissed off, and, well, it’s not going so well. They are just pups, but what can he say, pissing off an entire pack of werewolves mean it’s a handful for him. Right now, he has his talons out, teeth bared, and wings spread to their fullest to let the pups know he’s fucking pissed himself.

 

“Oh, lookie, the demon is angry, what are the odds?” Pup No. 1 snickers.

“Oh, trust me, I’m beyond being angry,” _and I’m an idiot for even coming after one pup. Now I have around two dozen to deal with_. “Who wants to die first?”

“We aren’t the ones dying, Hellite,” the one who looks like the alpha sneers, using the derogatory term used for creatures of Hell. “ _You_ are.”

 

“Need a helping hand?”

 

Michael could kiss the owner of the voice, but he won’t, obviously. He’s just glad that the Slayer turned up to where dark creatures were blossoming.

 

“It’s your job to kill dark creatures, go ahead,” he replies nonchalantly as he throws a ball of hellfire at a random wolf, who hadn’t the skills to dodge it. Ash forms where she used to be.

 

In a matter of two minutes, the entire pack of dark werewolves is slain. Michael huffs out a breath as Luke slices the last one in half.

 

“That was a nice date,” Michael comments sarcastically. “Really, always wanted to go on a killing spree with my _favourite_ Slayer.”

“Shut the fuck up, demon,” Luke snarls at him. “If not for _your_ kind, my father would still be alive.”

“Oh boo-fucking-hoo,” Michael snarls, his fangs out. “We kill for a living get the fuck over it.”

“I never understood that,” Luke mumbles. “Why do you kill?”

“We live off of the life force that’s released when we kill any living things,” Michael finds himself replying to this Slayer. “Without killing, we’d die.”

“Then how do light demons survive?”

“What’s up with the questions?” Michael arches his pierced brow at Luke. He replies regardless. “When we get the treaty signed to Change, we no longer require the life force as our food. Kind of like going vegan or some shit. By the way?” Luke looks up. “My name is Michael.”

 

With that, Michael teleports back to his house.

 

-

 

Luke paces in his room. He can’t believe that he found his mate and that mate happens to be a fucking _demon_.

 

Yes, he’s known since he met Michael at the truce-holding bar, but he hasn’t acted on it because, well, Michael is a demon.

 

When he was a mere ten-year-old, his father was killed by a faceless demon. Maybe it was his childhood trauma that made him forget how the demon looks like. Ever since then, Luke has hated demons.

 

And now he’s mated to one.

 

What in fucking hell?

 

His phone suddenly beeps with a text message.

 

_From: Brad_

_Hey, boss, do you need me to patrol East Section 1-05?_

 

Luke frowns at that. Lately, Brad has been patrolling that area a lot. He finds that suspicious as fuck but to hell with it.

 

**To: Brad**

**Yeah, whatever, and don’t call me boss. Im just ur leader, not a boss**

 

-

 

Michael is kissing a random human girl. He doesn’t know why he’s doing that, but it’s easier to seduce her this way.

 

And to kill her, of course.

 

Silently, he moves his hand towards her heart, disguised as groping her breast. The girl lets out a horny moan (ew) and when he was about to dig his talons in, a metal blade points at his neck.

 

“Let her go, mate,” Luke’s voice sounds as annoying as always. “Or else.”

 

Michael uses compulsion to make his prey forget.

 

“Yes, O Great Lucas?” Michael snarls at his intruder.

“You were about to kill her—I had to stop you,” Luke says that like it’s so obvious.

 

What isn’t obvious is why in Hell the Slayer hasn’t killed him for the third time in a row.

 

“You talk to much,” is all Michael says before he presses his lips to Luke’s in a rough, faux-passionate way.

 

Except, it turns to actual passionate kiss. Michael didn’t mean it to happen, but the blond kisses him back with so much passion, it scares him.

 

Before anything else can happen, he teleports away from the blond Slayer.

 

-

 

Luke feels weird.

 

Scratch that, he’s fucking horny and in need of a good lay.

 

He pissed of the wrong warlock by fucking his daughter (ages ago) and now he’s under a spell that got him horny. Insatiable lust until someone’s tended to him, so fucking fitting, right?

 

He’s walking in the night streets with a fucking boner and of course, his senses pick up a demon.

 

Not just any demon, it’s fucking Michael.

 

“Babe,” Luke purrs out as he approaches the demon. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

“Did someone—oh shit, you’re under a spell,” the leather-clad demon states the obvious. “Fuck, why don’t you get a girl instead?”

“I don’t want a bloody girl, I want you,” Luke states the truth he’s been keeping from the demon so long. “You’re my–”

“Your what? Enemy? Yeah, that I am,” Michael snarls, his fangs flashing. “Just because I find you attractive does not mean–”

 

This time, it’s Luke who presses their lips together. Michael moans against his lips, a positive reaction, if you ask Luke. Luke tilts his head down for a better angle, humming against his mate’s lips.

 

Mates.

 

That’s such a scary thing to think about, but Luke has long accepted that his mate is a bloody demon. It’s not like he can change the past now.

 

Somehow, the scenery changes and Luke guesses that the demon teleported them to his own house. He moans as Michael starts rutting his hips into his own. The demon can move, dammit.

 

“Michael…” Luke says in a fucked-out voice, hating himself for that. He lets out a groan when his demon mate straddles his thighs. “Fuck…”

“Yes, Luke?” Michael smirks right before he dips his head down to press their lips together. Luke can still feel the smirk that’s formed on his mate’s lips.

“Just fuck me and end my misery,” Luke breathes out.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be out of misery.”

 

With the snap of Michael’s fingers, their clothes are removed.

 

“Nifty,” Luke grins. “What are you going to do now?”

 

Luke really shouldn’t have asked, but he was being a brat, so.

 

Michael hums as he gets a bottle from under the sofa. Luke guesses it’s lube.

 

After a moment or two of prep, Michael applies a generous amount of lube onto his own dick and prods against Luke’s hole.

 

“Go ahead,” Luke gives the demon his consent.

 

-

 

“Go ahead,” Michael nearly fails at keeping his face straight when he hears those two words.

 

 _Do you know we’re mates? Is that why you’re letting me fuck you?_ Michael asks silently, hesitating. He hasn’t been laid since Celine, and he doesn’t want to fuck shit up by mistakenly believing Luke is his mate. Done that once, doesn’t want to repeat that shit.

 

He pushes in slowly, surprised by how tight Luke feels around him. Maybe he hasn’t been—or he hasn’t been a bottom—oh what the Hell, none of his concern. Michael doesn’t bother with being gentle with his possible mate, thrusting in and out of the blond at a rough pace. Luke lets out pleased moans, which Michael takes as a good sign.

 

“Gonna come for me like a good Slayer?” Michael croons, his lips hovering over Luke’s.

“Fuck’s sakes,” Luke groans, pressing his palm against Michael’s head and presses their lips together. Michael almost moans at the taste of Luke’s lips, that of light and life.

 

Luke tenses up before he spurts all over their chests, and Michael soon releases deep inside his _mate_ , moaning out the Slayer’s name.

 

“Sleep,” Michael orders, which Luke complies to.

 

-

 

Much to Michael’s surprise, Luke is still sleeping beside him when he wakes up in the morning. He usually sleeps ‘til midday, but the presence of his possible mate must have thrown him off his usual sleeping schedule.

 

“I don’t know why you’d sleep with a monster like me, Luke…” Michael whispers to the sleeping blond. “I kill to live, and it’s your job to dispose of those like me…”

 

-

 

Luke wakes up with the feeling of sunlight shining on his face and someone’s intense gaze. He yawns and stretches as he rises from the bed.

 

Except, it’s not his pristine white bed, it’s jet-black.

 

Before he can even process what the fuck might have happened last night, memories of last night assault him.

 

 _Did I really let my possible mate fuck me? When I was under the spell’s influence?_ Luke curses internally. _I don’t—I can’t do that! He’s a demon!_

 

“Morning, babe,” comes Michael’s husky voice. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like I was fucked by a demon—oh wait, didn’t that actually happen?” Luke growls angrily. “What were you looking at, you pervert?”

“You know, don’t you?” Michael asks randomly. It takes Luke a full minute to realise what the demon means.

“I’m sorry, are we speaking in codes?” Luke plays Dumb Blond.

“I know you’re smart, Luke. I know you know what I know.”

“Fuck if I know,” Luke hisses at the demon. “I don’t want my life force to be tied to the one thing I hate the most. Or _should_ hate the most.”

“Oh wow, that’s a fucking relief,” Michael hisses like a snake, the raspy sounds escaping from those kissable lips. “My mate hates me.”

“Are you listening? I said I _should_ hate you,” Luke reiterates himself. “I hate your kind ever since one of you killed my father, and I was there to see it. The demon didn’t see me as much of a threat so he ‘spared’ me. I wish he killed me too so I don’t have to carry around the weight of the guilt I do now for being so weak back then.”

“Boo-hoo, shit happens in life,” Michael has the audacity to laugh at Luke. “People get killed everyday and your daddy happened to be that person that day.”

“God, I hate you,” Luke replies coldly.

“No, I know you love me deep down that gorgeous body of yours, baby,” Michael blows a kiss to Luke. “When you know for sure I am, indeed, your mate, you know where to find me.”

 

With that, Luke finds himself sent back to his flat.

 

-

 

It’s been about two weeks since Michael fucked Luke and his mind hasn’t come off of it since. His mind still fleets back to how pretty Luke sounded during, or how his face contorted from pleasure as he came.

 

_Maybe I just need to ball up and confront him…_

 

-

 

Luke can’t believe he had sex with Michael, whether he was under the influence of a spell or not. But he knows as a Slayer that the spell only intensified his innermost sexual desires.

 

_Maybe I just need to confront him about it…_

 

-

 

Michael goes to the café he frequents, only to find Luke there. He isn’t too pleased, but he isn’t displeased about it either. He sidles up to the Slayer and taps at his shoulder.

 

“What now?” Luke hisses at him.

“Get your coffee first, you look like you need it,” Michael rolls his eyes at him.

 

Luke gets his coffee, buying Michael’s as well.

 

“So, what is it that you need to talk to me about?” Luke hisses at Michael.

“I didn’t say I need to talk to you.”

“It’s written all over your face,” Luke replies simply.

“You know,” Michael replies back.

“And _you_ know that I’m in denial,” Luke couldn’t word it any better.

 

Michael knows he’s always a horrible in-the-moment decision maker.

 

Which is exactly why he just presses his lips against Luke’s. The blond doesn’t resist the kiss which Michael takes as a good thing.

 

“I can’t,” Luke whispers against his lips. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Michael mumbles oh-so-helpfully.

 

Luke kisses Michael back with more fervour this time, letting the demon know that he’s slowly accepting.

 

-

 

_Three months later_

 

“I told you, that wasn’t me!” Michael growls as Luke waves an empty box of his favourite cereal. “It was the rats?”

“Michael, you’re the only other living being in this house,” Luke groans, exasperated.

“I know it was–”

 

Michael shuts his mate up with a kiss.

 

Luke smiles against those demonic lips, giving in with a sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> Part two or nah?


End file.
